


Feathers and Flowers

by Heronfem



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age Kink Meme, Gift Giving, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-28 23:43:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6350377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heronfem/pseuds/Heronfem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen definitely only likes women.  Lavellan, while incredibly beautiful and visually delicate for someone who wields a maul three times their size, is very definitely a man.  Cullen likes Lavellan. As a friend. A leader. A comrade in arms.  Certainly he's not in love.  Not him, oh no.</p>
<p>So why is he buying him gifts meant for wooing?</p>
<p>(Lavellan just wants Cullen to kiss him already.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feathers and Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/14591.html?thread=55635455#t55635455
> 
> This has been in my drafts for over seven months. Probably about time I posted it. Oops.

Of all the people in the world to spontaneously develop emotions for, this wasn’t as bad as, say, Hawke, but Cullen was seriously considering whether throwing himself down a well was a viable life option. Lavellan was beautiful. Cullen kept thinking about all the little pieces that made their Herald real, drinking each detail in like he couldn’t get enough. Waist long, thick, tawny hair that matched warm, tanned skin from a life on the plains. Long, graceful legs, smooth ears that came to graceful points. Delicate hands on thin, dainty wrists. Warm, plush mouth. Long eyelashes framing chocolate eyes. Sweet, soft, melodic voice somewhere between tenor and alto.

Cullen would have been crushing on the image alone, but Lavellan was also kind, strong, and incredibly smart on top of it, all very attractive qualities for Cullen.

There was just one small problem.

Lavellan was a man.

Male.

The opposite of what Cullen preferred.

Everything was terrible, and Cullen wanted to cry a little. It would never work.

Varric gave him a knowing stare as he managed a grimacing smile at dinner the first night the Inquisition ate together. Cassandra kept glancing back and forth, eyes narrowing as she watched Cullen longer and longer. He drank to keep from sweating too obviously.

oOo

“Sir?”

Cullen startled out of the blank he’d wandered into as he stared at the weapons out for sale. “Um. Yes, Corporal Nevus.” 

The corporal, thankfully, didn’t comment on the fact that the Commander had been very focused on the Dalish made hunting knives on the table. “We were wondering if you could have a world with the Herald? Not that we don’t adore His Grace, but frankly he’s terrifying the new recruits.”

“What?” Cullen stared at the man. “How?”

“He’s so damned _sneaky_ sir, pardon my Orlesian. He keeps getting up behind them and talking right in their ears to make them jump.” Corporal Nevus looked every inch the longsuffering man who’d been gifted with this lovely surprise, and Cullen had to swallow down a smile and laugh. “I know it doesn’t seem like much, sir, but we’ve a couple rather skittish ones I’d rather not have waving swords about the savior of Thedas, even if he wields an axe triple his size. I’d rather not kill the Herald before we even get moving.”

Cullen nodded. “I’ll have a word with him,” he promised, and the corporal saluted, turned on his heel, and went. Cullen turned back to the seller, who was looking at him with knowing eyes. He raised an eyebrow.

“Buying these for the Herald?” the woman said, already wrapping the knives up. Cullen went pink, and handed over the money.

oOo

“You… bought me Dalish knives?” Lavellan said slowly, turning them over in his hands.

“Erm. Yes. For- for ceremonial occasions or just for regular use,” Cullen said awkwardly, shifting back and forth. “I know it must be a pain to have to be what everyone else thinks you should be, so I thought those might be a nice way to quietly tell them to- well- shove off.” Lavellan looked a little mollified at the thought, and gently set them on his desk. They were beautiful work, carefully carved with the same pattern as his vallaslin.

“Thank you, Cullen.”

oOo

It’s just that he couldn’t stop, now he was started. It was like Lavellan somehow become Andraste’s statue, and he kept bringing him gifts. Little things, useful things, like pretty candles and boot knives, dainty cakes and weapon oil. Lavellan was liberally adorned near constantly with signs of Cullen’s devotion, and the recruits learned to keep their mouths shut about it unless they wanted to go one on one with the commander himself. Lavellan even braided the feathers from a bird Cullen had killed for Lavellan's dinner into his hair, making charms from them, and Cullen didn’t want to think about the warmth that spread through him at the sight of them fluttering in the breeze.

And then Dorian appeared.

Damn Dorian Pavus, with his elegant and weird clothes and easy flirting and how he makes Lavellan lean in to talk to him, looking up sweetly from under those long, pretty eyelashes.

“You’re jealous,” Cassandra said bluntly, and Cullen scowled into his ale.

“Jealousy would imply I had something to be jealous about,” Cullen grumbled.

“And yet you’re jealous,” she said dryly, watching as Dorian laughed with Lavellan over by the fire, the feathers in his hair swaying. He wore it long, curling all the way down to his waist. Cullen wanted to run his hands through it, and settled for holding his mug tighter.

oOo

Lavellan came home from the Hissing Wastes to find a bath ready and warm in his room, a variety of rather expensive oils on a table beside it, and the softest towel he’d ever seen in his life. He dropped his pack to the floor, running his fingers over an exquisite halla horn comb on the table, and sighed.

“Just wanted to check you made it up- Oh. Well then,” Bull said as he ducked into the room, taking in the bath. “That’s new.”

“Not really,” Lavellan said wryly, smiling despite himself. He carefully took the feather ornaments out of his hair, setting them on a tray. His rings went next, one made of horn, one of solid, sturdy metal with studs on it. Both gifts from Cullen, heavily enchanted. “You see, I have a very uninterested admirer who, despite not having a roof, adores showering me in gifts.”

“Cullen?” Bull said dryly, walking over to help him open the necklace clasp from which hung an amulet of no small strength.

“Cullen,” Lavellan confirmed. “The very definitely straight Commander of my armies, Lion of Honnleath and Skyhold, former Templar and handsomest man around.”

There was a rather aggressive cough from the doorway where Dorian leaned, and Lavellan rolled his eyes.

“With the exception of one Dorian Pavus, late of Minrathous, necromancer, long may he live etcetera.”

“Better.” Dorian closed the door behind him, coming in to sit on the chair at his desk as Lavellan shucked off his greaves and winced at the sand that came pouring out. “How was the Hissing Wastes?”

“Dry. Boring. Shitty.” Lavellan grimaced. “If I have to go there again in my life, it’ll be too soon.” He stripped off his mail, handing it over to Bull, and got started on the complicated buckles, twist of leather, and knots holding the rest of his gear in place. “Did Cullen take his frustration out on my sweet, darling little recruits this time?”

Dorian chuckled. “Oh no. He moped. And even better, he pretended he wasn’t moping over you. Also, you should probably be expecting a mabari with a bow on it soon, if the way he was looking at the kennels was anything to go by. We had a very lovely chat about your hair, too. At least he's finally worked out that you're not interested in me and stopped bristling every time I brought you up in conversation.”

“The man is obsessed with my hair,” Lavellan said, stroking down the length of it with some pride. “Maybe I should cut it, and see if his attention stays.”

“If you’d like,” Dorian shrugged, and stared appreciatively as Lavellan slid his shirt off and flicked it to the corner of the room. “Have I mentioned how much I adore working for you?”

Bull laughed, walking over to urge him up and out of the chair as Lavellan rolled his eyes with a smile. “Come on, Dorian, you can ogle the Inquisitor later.” He nudged Dorian up, steering him to the door. “We’ll see you at dinner?”

“Of course,” Lavellan said, smiling as Dorian complained about being pushed out the door and it closed behind his friends. Shaking his head, he stripped the rest of the way down. Once he’d brushed most of the sand off, he climbed in and groaned with relief. A rune on the side indicated he just had to touch it to increase or decrease the heat- a fine gift, that was certain. Cullen was spoiling him, and the sad thing was, he knew Cullen expected nothing in return. He groaned again, grabbing the soap, and resolved to put his very handsome and utterly unattainable commander out of his mind.

Also, didn’t Templars take vows of chastity or something?

oOo

The next gift was very small physically, but emotionally tipped the scales right off the desk.

Lavellan blinked back a few tears as Cullen gently set a single crystal grace on his desk with his report, and walked from the room without a word. Dorian, who’d been sitting at his desk to help him with some rather complicated Orlesian documents, stared at the flower in awe as Lavellan lifted it to his nose.

“Very well, enough is enough,” Lavellan said when he could control his voice. “I want that man to be my husband.”

oOo

“Cullen?”

Cullen looked up from his paperwork at the sound of Lavellan’s voice, smiling brightly. “Oh, hello. I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

Lavellan slipped into his office, walking over to perch on Cullen’s desk. Cullen couldn’t quite help letting his eyes wander across the smooth swell of his hip, and the solid weight of his thigh. “I’ve brought you something, Commander.”

“Have you?” Cullen asked, smiling despite the butterflies that had taken up residence in his stomach.

“Oh yes.” Lavellan smiled fondly at him. “You give me so many beautiful things, after all. How could I not return the favor at least a few times?” He lifted a necklace from his belt pouch, a beautiful tooth capped in silverite with delicate blue stones set into it. “A lion tooth, for my lion.”

Cullen’s eyes widened as he took it reverently. “How did you get this?”

“It was a rather expensive, but very worthwhile find in Val Royeaux. I had Dagna help me design the cap for it. Do you like it?”

Cullen nodded, unable to tear his eyes away. “This is… This is such a fine thing,” he whispered, and Lavellan hopped off the desk, gently taking it from him. Walking around behind him, he slid the chain around his neck and clasped it. It was long enough that it fell right over his heart, and Cullen gently touched it. He froze as Lavellan kissed the top of his head.

“Have a good rest of the day, lion of mine,” Lavellan said, long fingers stroking the back of his neck before he left, leaving Cullen sitting pole-axed at his desk.

oOo

That night, he dreamed about Lavellan. He’d dreamed about him before, in a sort of vague, unimportant way, just shadows and shapes. But this time, it was different.

This time, Lavellan waited in diaphanous green robes, draped himself over the chaise lounge on the balcony outside his rooms. He had left his hair down, the feathers still intact, dangling from their little chains as he waited.

“You took your time,” he murmured as Cullen approached, stretching languidly. A small, graceful thing, with his sharp ears and dreamers eyes, and Cullen wanted nothing more than to lavish him with attention for the rest of this life. He kissed him slow and sweet, trailing his fingers over the soft fabric. 

Lavellan was easy to pin, easy to mark, easy to hold and croon soft words to, quick fingers dancing to hold Cullen’ s face, and when he jolted awake he felt sick.

Wrong. It had all been wrong. He shouldn’t feel like this about Lavellan. He should have let this go long ago, before it became whatever it was, this- this uncomfortable desire sitting deep in his chest. Lavellan was beautiful and kind, a good friend and better ally. He should have nothing but respect, he had in the past. Fine, that wasn’t true, there had been some desire, but nothing like this. He shouldn’t want for his friend, what did that make him? A predator, just some sick bastard hunting his own friends? What was wrong with him?

He hugged his knees to his chest and hoped against hope it would fade.

oOo

The gifts stopped abruptly.

“Not a thing, I tell you,” Lavellan said, slamming her glass down. Leliana and Josephine exchanged confused looks over the dinner they were sharing in Lavellan’s room. “Not so much as a flower.” He didn’t look over at the single Crystal Grace, lovingly preserved on his desk. “Have I done something to offend him? Every time I try to talk to him, all I get is him running off to go do something else. Like train. Or paperwork. It used to be he couldn’t get rid of the paperwork fast enough!”

“I think he’s finally come to the realization that he is… different than he thought,” Lelilana said tactfully. Lavellan stared, baffled.

“What?”

“Cullen, while a… unique, and charming man,” Josephine said, wincing a little, “has very little experience with affairs of the heart. He’s likely just realized that he truly desires you, and has no idea what to do about it.”

“Kissing me would be nice,” Lavellan said wistfully. “I’d like that. Kissing would be good.”

“Believe me, with the way everyone carries on, we all want him to kiss you,” Leliana said mildly. 

“Should I flirt more?” Lavellan asked, looking between the two. “Reassure him, somehow?”

Josephine tapped her lips thoughtfully, and nodded. “I think that would be for the best.”

oOo

“Cullen, I hate to say it, but you look dreadful,” Dorian said bluntly. Cullen looked blearily up from the chess set.

“What? Sorry, I haven’t been sleeping well.” He’d been avoiding sleep all together, honestly. Whenever he slept, he was sucked back into the dreams of being with Lavellan. Often they weren’t scandalous at all, just him quietly kissing Cullen’s forehead, or resting with him in a leafy green bower. Those were almost worse than the ones where he indulged in thoughts of a more sexual nature. He never woke up more pained than just after being given what he wanted in the Fade.

“Clearly.” Dorian came over to crouch in front of him, looking him over in concern. “Cullen, I value our friendship dearly, and I mean no disrespect, but you look worse right now than you did when I first met you. And you were definitely not healthy then. What happened?”

Cullen looked down at his hands in his lap. “I realized something the other day,” he said miserably. 

“What is it?”

He twisted his fingers together to keep from shaking too terribly. “I’m in love with Lavellan. Or at least in lust. And I shouldn’t be, that’s bad of me, he’s my friend. And colleague. And commander. It’s- it’s wrong for me to do that. It was fine when I just wanted to please him, make him happy. And he keeps trying to get me alone, or to talk to me, and I feel terrible for making my excuses but he shouldn't have to deal with this.”

“Oh, Cullen.” Dorian sighed. “One of these days I’m going to go back in time and punch ever single person who’s ever pulled this sort of shit on you.”

“I- what?”

“I’m only mostly serious,” Dorian said, rubbing his forehead. “Cullen, he adores you. He loves you more than I could ever really say. He had me enchant that flower with time magic so it would never wilt. He wears feathers for you, he wears rings and necklaces and is so utterly charmed by all of it. He wants you just as badly as you want him. Watch him, tonight at the banquet. He misses you, and I'm sure he'll make it clear how much he enjoys your company.”

“If you're sure,” Cullen said, and a tiny flare of hope lit in his heart.

oOo

Cullen was seated at Lavellan's right hand as soon as he came in, the lions tooth on its long string pressing against his heart. He was out of his armor and into nicer clothes, the ones that Josephine had insisted on. The soft linen shirt, the deep brown pants, the wonderfully tall boots, and the actual velvet jerkin he wore were all very Dalish in style, and Lavellan's eyes lit up as he saw him. Cullen took his seat, and quietly handed him a long stemmed dawn lotus.

Lavellan took it, swallowing hard, and slid it into his hair. It matched the feathers that Lavellan still wore, and was held neatly in place by a braid. Cullen ducked his head, feeling his cheeks going red, and jumped a little as Lavellan took his hand. 

“Thank you,” Lavellan murmured, and Cullen's eyes went wide as Lavellan lifted his hand and pressed a tender kiss to his knuckles. His heart was hammering, his breath caught in his throat. He stared, helpless, his heart full to bursting.

“Of course,” Cullen said, his voice hoarse. 

“After dinner, will you join me upstairs?” Lavellan asked, not letting go of Cullen's hand. He stroked it slowly, his thumb smoothing over any aches in the knuckles.

“Anything for you,” Cullen murmured, and Lavellan's eyes went a little bit wild around the edges. Cullen smiled, hope making his heart swell, and blushed as Lavellan tangled their feet together. Lavellan didn't let go of his hand until the banquet was begun, and Cullen couldn't stop smiling despite the excited looks the others were giving him. He barely remembered the food, his heart jumping every time Lavellan reached under the table to rest his hand on Cullen's thigh, and it was all entirely worth it.

Somehow, Lavellan pulled him away during the party, skillfully avoiding the nobles, and suddenly Cullen was in the bedroom, with its wide balcony and massive bed. The tub sat in the corner, and Cullen's cheeks went hot again. Lavellan turned, stepping in close, and Cullen's breath caught again He had some height on him, though not much, and Lavellan had a presence to him that was awe inspiring and powerful. 

“Cullen,” Lavellan said, taking his hand. He had such small, delicate hands, and Cullen was always afraid he would break them, despite how strong he knew the man was. He used a maul, after all, he was no delicate flower. “We've been dancing around this for a while.”

“We have,” Cullen agreed, swallowing hard, and took a deep breath. It was now or never, and better to get it over quickly before the pain was allowed to set in and begin to hurt for good. “I- I think I might be in love with you. I understand, if- if you don't reciprocate. Or if you want me to leave, if I've made things difficult-”

He was cut off as Lavellan put a finger to his lips, his eyes bright with happiness.

“I have a gift for you.”

Cullen blinked, and his eyes went wide as Lavellan walked over to his desk and returned with a box. It was a beautifully crafted one at that, made of rosewood, and he carefully opened it. 

The box was empty. Cullen stared for a moment, a little hurt, and looked up at Lavellan, who was smiling.

“I don't understand.”

“What I want to give you can't be put into anything but a heart,” Lavellan said warmly, stepping forward to cup his cheek. “No box can hold it, but hands can hold me. I want to give you my love, Cullen. If you'll have me.”

Cullen couldn't breathe, his heart swelling in his chest. “Yes,” he managed, carefully setting the box aside before Lavellan pulled him in with the lion tooth necklace. “Yes, yes, I'm yours as long as you'll have me.”

Lavellan smiled up at him, warm and kind, and Cullen's fingers tangled in his long hair as Lavellan pulled him down into a slow, soft kiss. The last bit of sunlight was spilling over the floor onto them, making Lavellan's hair glow like rich honey. When they pulled back, Cullen was breathing hard.

“I love you,” he said, pressing their foreheads together. “I love you.”

Lavellan smiled, his eyes warm and happy. "I love you too, lion of mine."

Cullen let himself be pulled down into another kiss, with the feathers and flowers still in Lavellan's hair, and the lion tooth between their hearts.


End file.
